


Wandering Minstrels

by dirkharley



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-24
Updated: 2012-06-24
Packaged: 2017-11-08 10:38:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/442305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirkharley/pseuds/dirkharley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It only made sense that, after the debacle on Prospit, the dream bubbles would become her home. Her brother was out gallivanting, doing who knew what, while she was trapped, frankly, in her own mind. At least subconsciousness came with some perks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wandering Minstrels

**Author's Note:**

> Gamzee/Calliope fluff written for dirktier on tumblr, to be continued? I'm too tired to right now but there's a bunch of stuff I want to add so yeah.
> 
> Also, excuse the poor dialogue. How does Gamzee? We just don't know.

It only made sense that, after the debacle on Prospit, the dream bubbles would become her home. Even still, Calliope felt more than nervous about her current situation. Her brother was out gallivanting, doing who knew what, while she was trapped, frankly, in her own mind. At least subconsciousness came with some perks.

She sighed, staring down at her hands, which starkly contrasted those of her waking form. Rounded, pale grey, and fleshy, they felt as alien to her as their inspiration. Though taking on the form of Callie was something of a blessing, she still couldn't shake the feeling of misery that washed across her as she sat near the lapping water.

Quite convinced of her loneliness, Calliope ventured a look around her surroundings. By now she was used to the shift in scenery, though to her knowledge, the dream bubbles were meant to be formed of memories -- presumably her own. This was her first experience being unshackled, however, and there had certainly never been enough slack to reach a waterway. The mechanics of this game confused her, even before she had really entered. How polite of them.

"Why are you all looking like a lost little barkbeast, sister?" A voice called from behind her. Calliope jumped, having never heard another living voice.

"Well, I am lost, I suppose," she began, tentatively turning around to face her company. He stood much closer than she had anticipated, his voice having a lilt that displaced itself with each syllable. The next thing she registered was his skin, the same shade as her own imitation, and his face, covered in a white makeup she was all too familiar with. Allowing her eyes to drift upward, her suspicions were dazzlingly confirmed: a pair of winding horns, similar to her own, ascended from a tangle of hair towards the star-spotted sky.

"Oh!" She couldn't stop herself in time, her mouth quirking into a grin.

"What, there a flybeast up and buzzing around my thinkpan blanket?" The stranger moved in a slow and fluid fashion, swatting playfully at his mess of hair. This elicited a giggle out of Calliope.

"No, no! I simply haven't had the pleasure of meeting any trolls before this very moment! If you'll excuse my outburst, this is very exciting for me!"

The tall troll quirked his head to the side, brows furrowing. "Now, sister, that sounds like a righteous motherfucking thing. But you must be all twisted kinds of sad if you've never laid eyes on another trollbro before."

Calliope looked away from her companion, staring again at the lapping water. "Yes, I find I am."

She was shocked to find a hand on her chin, razor claws barely grazing her cheek.

"That ain't gonna motherfucking do, lovely ladytroll. I've been all up and alone without my lusus here," he paused, "and I've got more than enough chill to share with a cool sister."

Her eyes darted back to look at him, surprised at the kindness in his features, which were bred to be fierce and war-torn.

"I suppose that couldn't hurt, but I'm afraid I don't even know your name!"

To her surprise, he clapped his other hand to her face, gently squeezing her cheek, and planted a wet kiss on her mouth.

"Gamzee Makara, my sister," he responded, "and what kind of wicked syllables do I call you by?"

She could feel the soft lime blush creep into her cheeks, accentuating the swirls that already adorned them. It couldn't hurt to share her name, not here, where the game with her brother had already done its worst.

"Calliope," she said simply. Gamzee flashed her a toothy grin, hands still clamped loosely to her face.

"Well, if that ain't the most miraculous name I ever did hear," he laughed, guiding her up from her sitting position.

"Come along with me, Callie lady, I've got a motherfucking hive to show you."


End file.
